I squeeze her knee once under the table.“Good eyes, darling.”I swallow my smile, my pride at her attention to detail better than the pot I just won.I drag the pot in slow, let the chips clack as I stack them.She didn’t just catch Vex; she caught the rhythmIplay.She maps people the way I map exits.It lands, heavy and right.She’s not behind me.She’sbesideme.The part of me that shields wants her closer; the part that hunts wants her at my shoulder.I leave my hand on her knee a beat longer, not to keep her still but to remind myself to keep up.
She shifts like she’s about to stand.
“Where are you going, Lindy girl?”
“To get a drink,” she says.
“Darling,” I say to her, never raising my voice, “don’t ever lift a finger when I can lift it for you.”I reach behind me and grab the thermos I brought.Pour tea, add the sliced lemon from the bag on the same counter.I hand her the mug, brush my mouth along her jaw, then cut the deck.
We’re playing our last hand when my phone buzzes twice.Fucking Travis.I swear to God the man prides himself on having the worst timing.I don’t get up from the table.
“What.”
“Those numbers Evie dropped off are legit.”
“How the hell do you even know about those?”
“Adrian sent the file.”
“Is one quiet night too much to ask?”
“It’s hanger B-14.”
“Window?”
“Nine-minutes.My guy can blind the camera once more after that, anything else you’ll have to have Adrian hack it.”
“I hate you.”
“The guard out front, ballcap, beard, is mine.Don’t kill him.”
“No promises.”
“I’ll text you the code for the lock they have on it.Sava is five minutes out, she’ll meet you by the north fence.”
“She got supplies?”
“Yeah, blankets, O2, med kits, all the shit.”
“No headlines, Travis.”
“No fucking bodies on the tarmac, Cassius,” he shoots back.
I end the call, bending to Lindy’s ear.“You’re with Adrian until I get back,” I tell her.“He’ll get you home safe.”
Her mouth tips.“Okay.”I kiss her.
“Go be scary,” she says.Behind me, under bulbs and smoke and the click of a cane, my wife sits high, tea in hand, ring lit, spine straight.The scariest thing in the room isn’t me anymore.
It’s what I’ll do for her.
twenty-four
I usedto think I liked silence.
Not the kind that comes from peace.I didn’t grow up with that.My father made sure of it.His voice was a weapon, and the quiet between beatings the inhale before the next storm.
When I killed him, I thought I’d earned silence.Real silence.The kind I could control.No noise.No people.Just the steady rhythm of my own breath and the sound of a blade sliding along skin.
